Controlling Entropy
by IndigoPenguin
Summary: The natural order of life is to be swept into chaos. They might as well enjoy the ride. //Chapter Two: On the Job. The new guy's not so bad, after all....//. FE:SS AU. Mainly EirikaxSeth, JoshuaxNatasha.
1. Introduction

_Hello to you all! Before I launch into this project, I ask that you please take a moment to see what it is. Below, _Controlling Entropy _will have it's purpose explained, as well as it's general plot line. Also, some vital information about the characters will be given to you with my analysis to (hopefully) avoid confusion and questions on your part. _

-)(-**PURPOSE**-)(-

_The reason I am writing this is to play with two ideas of mine._

The first of these ideas is that the factor that makes Fire Emblem so entertaining is not _the fantasy setting or battle system, but the characters within the game. To see if the characters can fully move a story along—no matter what that story is—is the main goal of this piece of work. As such, I will try very hard to keep everybody in character, and ask that any discrepancies be pointed out to me as they are found. After all—if Eirika isn't acting like Eirika, then the character as we know her from FE: SS isn't really fueling the plot, now is she?_

The second idea is a silly, personal gripe of mine. After playing through the game and reading through the support conversations, I was outraged to see the limited interaction between Eirika, Seth, Natasha, and Joshua. The fact that the Silver Knight and the Sacred Healer can be in a romantic relationship aside; I always thought that the four would be very good friends.  


-)(-**PLOT**-)(-

_Plot? What plot? In case this is your first time reading my work, I seem totally incapable of writing a full-out story—one-shots and drabbles with continuing character traits seem to be more of my thing. So, _Controlling Entropy _will be a series of chronological events through the lives of Eirika, Seth, Natasha, and Joshua as they meet, fall in love, and it will end when they get married. Random times will be injected in—expect them to mostly correlate with holidays or important occasions ( I.e., proposals)—when there is a temporary expansion of the usual cast of four with a maximum of twelve to fourteen major characters brought into a chapter. _

-)(-**SET-UP**-)(-

_Each chapter will have a main theme, which will be posted in the chapter title. For example, the first real chapter of the story is titled _One: Meeting. _They will all begin with the third-person focus on Eirika and Seth, and after some time, there will be a break with a repetition of the chapter title. After such break, the focus will be on Joshua and Natasha. For the most part, the four will interact throughout the entire chapter. There will be no "other side" to situations shown. This means that if Seth and Joshua have a conversation in the beginning of a chapter, when it's the second half, time will continue to flow—it won't go backwards and show Joshua's thoughts during their talk._

Clear as mud? I hope it becomes easier to understand as you read. 

-)(-**CHARACTER INFORMATION**-)(-

_As previously stated, the four main characters are Eirika, Seth, Natasha, and Joshua. The others that may enter the story on a more than one-time basis are Ephraim, Tana, Innes, Vanessa, Ismaire, Franz, Forde, Kyle, Amelia, Tethys, and Gerik. Lyon is mentioned, but does not have an "active" role. Please note their last names—I tried to incorporate symbolism into each of them! The twin's surname isn't as blatantly apparent as the others are...if you're curious, feel free to message me about it!_

Now, for their occupations....

Eirika and Ephraim Svarog (26): The heirs to the Castle Renais (a famous hotel/casino) in Las Vegas, the male twin lives in a mansion outside of town while Eirika lives in the executive's suite of Renais. Ephraim handles the financial, cut-throat business side of matters while his sister handles décor and hospitality issues within the hotel (think head of H.R.). Not only do I feel that this matches their personalities in governing their country within the cannon storyline of the game, but it gives them a "higher-up" place within society. It also gives me an excuse to be a silly ExS fangirl and give Seth his job....

Seth Marshall (31): ...Which happens to the head of security for the hotel. In this position, he can play commander of a force of armed guards, possibly serve as a bodyguard to Eirika (and remain "under" her in the authority ladder), and use his keen observational skills to catch cheaters in the casino. I think that a paladin's mount is crucial to their status—possibly because of the importance put on the horses in actual history and in fantasy games—but, because a horse is a little...out there, even for Vegas, Seth has police force experience with Olivia—a German Shepard.

Joshua Cutler (28): The son of the founder of Jehanna Hall—a desert-themed hotel on the same strip as Castle Renais—he works as a disc jockey for a local radio station. Why? Let's put things into perspective: Joshua's sword skills, albeit impressive, are hard to realistically transfer into a modern setting. A surgeon could have worked—but then, think about what he did in the game. He left home (the hotel business) to find out more about his people (deal with their problems on the radio); not to improve his fighting abilities. Also, working with a radio station gives him the opportunity to explore Vegas (which, as I hope is apparent by now, is Magvel). Oh, and Blackjack is his preferred game.

Dr. Natasha White (27): Another slightly-twisted job here: a young, promising psychiatrist. I felt that, if she worked in the medical (physical healing) field, she would have the "nurturing" role of a nurse...but, for some reason, Natasha screams quiet authority to me. So,that would have to make her a doctor—but they don't coddle their patients as much as the general population seems to think....Ergo, she needed a position where she could actively heal her patients. Because in the game it's revealed she wants to help the people of Grado after the war, her focus is on victims of disasters: fires, witnessing murders, and especially—or rather, specifically—war veterans.

...And with all of my rambling out of the way, let's begin Controlling Entropy_! For the only time in this entire thing, I don't own Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones._

Enjoy, darlings! 


	2. Chapter One: Meeting

-)(-**Meeting**-)(-

"...I have to reject this, Ephraim. It...if it were to go in another hotel, it would be lovely, but—".

Her brother laughed, shook his head quickly, and slid the design back over to his side of the table. "No, it's okay. I think it sucks, too—but if I tell Tana that, she'd kill me. Or, rather, her brother'd kill me....But! I'll just tell her that you said we don't have a room that can fit that theme in—at the present, of course, so she won't get discouraged!—and this problem will be behind us," Ephraim beamed. Sighing, Eirika tucked a strand of teal hair behind her ear while she looked pointedly at her twin.

"That's all fine and well, but what happens when she gives us a plan with more winged horses in a few months? You have to be gentle, but totally honest...this isn't some sort of business sugar-coating. Tell Tana that Castle Renais does not focus on fantasy castles, but rather real ones, and encourage her to make another design based on actual palace grandeur," She said, gesturing to the paper from over her coffee. "She is an _excellent_ coordinator. I have the utmost faith that she will come up with something stunning for the new honeymoon suite...but, ah," Eirika glanced at the title of the page, "_'Winged Queen' _just isn't what we need".

The man smiled. "See, this is why _you _work in H.R., sis. You tell somebody that at a stock meeting, they'll bite your Goddamn head off!".

"Language," Eirika warned him. "Now...your girlfriend's project aside; you said that you had overstepped your role in running the hotel?". She asked evenly, pulling the skin off of an orange slice with a eye trained on her brother. The twenty-six year-old man shifted nervously in his seat.

"Yeah. I...I, uh, sort of hired someone," Ephraim told the woman across from him. "It's sort of your place, I know, but, well....". She peered curiously at him for a moment.

"You just hired somebody?" Eirika felt a strange surge of relief at the admission. "That's not a problem, I trust your judgment...why do you think you need to clear this through me?".

He hesitated for a moment, then locked eyes with his sister. "Eirika," He said solemnly. "I hired somebody to replace Leon as head of security for the hotel. You've let the regular security staff handle the obligations that the _head_ of their department needs to for the last four months. As a business owner, I have obligations of my own: to make sure that jobs are being done without heavy costs coming to my endeavor. The men are all requesting overtime salaries, and that costs more in the long run than hiring a chief of staff does. I understand that you're upset about having to fire Leon—everyone here was hurting when he left—but Castle Renais needs someone in his position, and—".

"I'm not upset about _firing_ him, Ephriam! I'm upset that he _went to jail! _I'm upset that he _committed suicide _three weeks after his incarceration—" Eirika snapped, choking past her last few words and rising angrily from her seat. "But...you hired a guy, fine. Okay. When does he start?"

"Eirika—". His sister shook her head, inhaled through her nose to calm down, and repeated her question with a concealed trace of venom.

"_When _does he start, Ephraim?".

"Today. He'll be there in an hour....But, Eirika, I—".

"No, forget it. Just...just, never mind. I have to go if I'm going to greet mister....".

"Mr Marshall".

"Mr. Marshall...okay. ...I'll see you later tonight?".

"...Sure. Take care," Ephraim sighed, watching his sister walk out the door to his kitchen with a dour expression marring his face. _Shit. I didn't think she'd take it well. _He braced his forehead against the palm of his hand and didn't stand from his place until he heard her car accelerate out of his driveway. Making a mental note to finish his coffee later, the man walked over to the island of the kitchen and hit speed-dial two on his still charging cell phone. After the Frelian's automated system picked up, he punched in the extension for the manager's office, and waited for the call to transfer.

It rang three times before a cheery voice answered. "Ephraim! Hello! How're you, sweetie?"

Ephraim couldn't hold back a small smile. "Morning, Tana. Uh, is your brother around?".

"Ephraim," Her voice turned sympathetic. The young woman seemed to sense that he was after brotherly advice; but made no move to get her brother as far as he could tell. Tana insisted on trying to talk to him herself instead. "You _told _her already?".

"The guy starts today, what _else _was I going to do? Let her freak out on him?".

"Well, you could have—hey! Innes! I'm not—". Tana's voice grew distant before a deeper, slightly gravely one spoke.

"...You screwed up," Was the simple statement Innes made. Ephraim groaned into the receiver, and he could see the older man shaking his head at his stupidity before he continued to speak. "But...you screwed up in the best way possible. Eirika would have held her stress and anger in until she could speak to you privately...and that would have been worse for the both of you, not to mention for your new security head".

He took in the other's wisdom before he realized something was odd. "Innes, how do you know what I did...?".

"You mentioned hiring a man to replace Leon, and his start date. Tana told me that you were eating with your sister this morning. Two and two," He sighed. "Idiot. You _should _have spoken to her before hiring him: then, this could all have been avoided".

Ephraim felt a familiar surge of irritation. "You just can't leave it at a semi-compliment, can you?!".

"Well, maybe if you'd _think—_!" Tana's pleas for them to stop fighting went unheard.

-)(-

"This guy's good," The blonde security guard whispered to his partner. "Has barely fidgeted since he sat down!". Kyle turned his eyes away from the auburn-haired man on the security monitor (who, like his friend said, had only readjusted his tie _once, _and that was when he first got to the reception office of Castle Renais) to glare at Forde.

The man looked back at him quizzically, and Kyle rolled his eyes. "He is our boss, Forde. Show some respect".

"He's not our boss if Eirika—oh, will you stop it? Fine—not our boss if _Ms. Svarog_ fires him as soon as she gets here...." Forde said, clapping his hands as he saw the familiar black car pull into valet parking. "Which is now!". Kyle continued to stare at his fellow guard, and Forde mimicked his earlier gesture. "Oh, you know she's still in full mourning over Leon. I mean, we _miss _the guy, but she feels _guilty_, and that's fifty times worse". At the green mane's nod, he went on. "And her brother hired him in the first place...so, there should be fireworks! Misplaced resentment, the loss of a livelihood, the stuff of soap operas! This'll be great—say, think we should get popcorn?".

"_Forde!_" He hissed, "That is _awful_ of you to—". Kyle turned his head at the beeping next to him, and flicked the button that turned on his ear-piece. "Squad Four...yes, a Seven-Oh-Nine? Got it," He stood from his surveillance chair, motioning to Forde. "There's a drunk guy at the pub, Maurice thinks he might be close to getting rough. C'mon".

Forde rose as well, but with no small amount of whining. "Aw, it was about to get _good_! Hey, little bro, tell me how it went, okay?" Franz raised his hand in response, and with that the pair exited the guard station. "...Really, who drinks _that much _at nine in the morning?! _Who_?!". Kyle had no answer.

-)(-

Oblivious to the actions of her employees, Eirika walked into the lobby of her hotel a little after nine. After greeting a few clerks and bellhops, she quickly got onto the staff elevator and waited to reach the second-highest floor of the building, her tapping foot the only indication of her inner conflict. _I...don't know if this is a good idea. Brother's right, I know, but I don't know if _I _can handle somebody in Leon's place so soon. Maybe I'll play it by ear? No, that's not fair to Mr. Marshall....Ephraim picked him, he has to be good. I just need to learn to let him do his job without my interfering. _

_...That's what caused problems last time, after all. _The woman sighed, stepping onto the seventy-third floor. _I just need to treat him like everybody else here. _Taking a deep breath, she pushed the dark wooden door to the reception office open and walked in with a breezy smile, heading to the desk before even daring to look at the man. "I'm sorry for being late, there was construction on the westbound turnpike—down to one lane; have you been waiting long?". Eirika asked the man in a light tone, setting her briefcase onto the marble desktop. At the brief pause before he answered her, the woman turned to face him.

"No, I've only been here since twenty 'till," He responded; but Eirkia wasn't listening. _He's...handsome. _Mr. Marshall wasn't the statuesque, tragic sort of man-candy Lyon was _thinking the __name hurt, even!, _but he was definitely _sculpted_. Any man who had such thighs under a suit had to be! His face was attractive, too—all sharp, almost rugged, planes and clean-shaven, with dark eyes and.... Snapping out of her aesthetically-linked stupor, the heiress realized she hadn't really paid attention and chose to save face with a cover-all reply.

"Sorry," She said again, slightly widening her smile while she sheepishly looked away. Mr. Marshall offered a gentle smile of his own—that's okay, it seemed to say, I didn't really mind it—and Eirika sat in the large leather chair behind the desk, opening her laptop before she looked up to the man again. "Oh, please, come over here! And—I'm so sorry, I seem to out of sorts today!—I haven't introduced myself to you...." She stood back up, moved in front of the desk with her hand outstretched. "Eirika Svarog, co-owner of Castle Renais. And you're Mr. Marshall?".

A larger hand took hers, shook with a firm grip. "Yes, ma'am—Seth," He amended. Eirika decided she liked his voice; it was calm and reassuring yet authoritative. Perfect for his _possibly_ soon-to-be job. "And, Ms. Svarog, I am of the understanding that you are actually the one who hires personnel here...?".

She sat as he did, glanced up from over her computer screen. "Eirika is fine. And yes, I am...well, Ephraim has the authority to do so, too; he just...doesn't," She explained with a shrug. "Prefers finances and the like. But he did hire you...so, why is it an issue, Seth?".

"...Your brother, ma'am, seemed to be somewhat _hurried_ in his hiring me for the position of Chief of Security here. Almost like he didn't want to give you time to review it...." _He didn't, _Eirika thought, _Perceptive of you. _"But to make this clear: I would like to have your okay on this job before I begin work. If you are to be one of my superiors, I do not want to be a nuisance to you, Ms. Svarog".

That touched her, in some strange way. "...Well, I agree with Ephraim's judgment. But...I do wish to go over your credentials with you," She said. The man nodded, and she clicked at her screen until she opened his resume. "Okay, I have your file up now. Seth Alexander Marshall, thirty-one. Degree in Criminal Justice with a minor in Technological Applications...oh, you served on the NYPD?".

"Yes," Seth confirmed. "I moved from Virginia to New York as soon as I graduated and served on the force for three years, before moving back to Virginia where I worked as Sectional Manager of Security for Senator Akins. I headed his surveillance for five years before coming to Las Vegas this January. I've spent the last ten months as Chief of Security at Carcino Casino; and resigned there when I was offered this job three weeks ago". Eirika scanned the information over on her computer before nodding.

"I see. It seems you have impressive service records in each of your positions....Tell me, Seth. Why do you want to work in Castle Renais?".

He ran his hand through deep red bangs before replying. "When I was with the NYPD, and even when I was with Senator Akins, I felt...like I was doing my best, but I wasn't in total control of my position. After the Senator let me go due to cutbacks, I came here and found that when I headed security at a casino; I could monitor everything and..._serve_ more. As a cop, you see too much left unpunished because there's no evidence; as a bodyguard, you only protect one person. But with this work, I can make sure hundreds of people's lives are a little smoother because somebody's not stealing their money or lying or what have you. It's not as noble as serving with a badge and gun, but at least I get some sense of fulfilled duty".

Eirika was surprised to notice that she felt that same surge of pleasure from before at his answer. "Well," She laughed, "That's a more noble reason than saying it's for the money!" He chuckled softly with her, and the teal-haired woman folded her red-sleeved arms on the desk while locking eyes with him. "Look, Seth. Ephraim trusts you, and I see no fault in your prior work experience. So...I'm giving you the go-ahead; just be aware that you're taking on a very big responsibility here. Service to the customers of Castle Renais is our top priority," She reminded him. "So no matter _what _my brother told you, you're to watch our card tables before you try to protect me".

Seth's smile grew a bit. "You know your brother well, Ms. Svarog. He told me that I had to 'boss the boys in security around', but mainly see to your personal safety. Perhaps we could try for a balance, to begin with?".

"...Fine," She agreed. "But only to begin with. Now...I'll show you to the observation room and get your troops lined up, so to speak...and I've told you. You can call me Eirika," She smiled, standing and moving to the door of the office. Seth followed her out, a deep grey shadow to her red and white blaze; and she turned her head around so she could see his face while speaking to him. "Nervous?".

He slowly raised an eyebrow, stepped forward to push the elevator button for her. "About meeting the other security officers here? Not really," Seth admitted. "...I'm sorry, Ms. Eirika. Did that come across as arrogant?".

"No, not at all. You _were _a New York cop...I bet you've dealt with much worse than our staff," Eirika said. "The most you'll have to look out for is Forde sleeping—he'll nap on and off, it's more endearing than anything...." Seth Marshall had paled at her comment, but thankfully, she failed to notice. She did notice, however, how easy it was to chat with the tall man; _much easier than with...Lyon, or even with Ephraim, for some reason! _By the time they reached the main basement surveillance area, she had revealed that her own degree was in Communications and that she hated the unbending 'no pets' rule that the hotels in the M-block had because she loved dogs and cats. In turn, she had learned that he had a sister who majored in the same field and worked in television, and that Seth had owned a dog in New York—trained by the NYPD, of course—but had to give her up when he left six years ago.

_...Is this letting him do his job without my being involved?!_

Swiping her access card through the slot, the door to Surveillance whirred open, and Eirika and Seth stepped into the dark room. "Can I have your attention, please?" The entirety of the room perked up at her voice, turned to the door with open curiosity. "This is Seth Marshall, and starting today, he's your new boss".

-)(-**Meeting**-)(-

The quarter flashed in the light of the waiting room, rolled neatly across his knuckles to his thumb. With a slight twitch of the appendage, the coin sailed underneath his hand only to pop out between his fourth finger and pinky, where it was then threaded through each finger before the metal disc was sent rolling in the opposite direction; to be tucked under his smallest finger and grabbed with the pad of his thumb. It glinted sharp silver as it spun in the air a foot above his right hand, and was caught with his left before the process began again. The cycle took all of ten seconds for his practiced hands, and Joshua Cutler was about to complete his twentieth rotation when he felt a pair of eyes on him.

To his credit, he didn't look over. Tossing the coin up once more, he caught it and slid it back into the pocket of his jeans. Letting out a impatient-sounding sigh, the man stretched his arms slightly, let his gaze idly trace the room, and then Joshua leaned over and plucked a _Reader's Digest _from two years ago from it's rack.

_What was is Carlyle always said..."Never become important to a crazy person"? Guess I'd better not draw her attention. _He frowned at that thought. _No, she's not crazy...probably. Just...troubled._ Risking a peek upwards, he found himself looking at the meek face of a indigo-haired girl—she was _maybe_ fifteen—who sat next to a solemn man with a social worker's badge pinned to his suit. At the sight of the large bruise on her temple and the burn marks on her hands, Joshua shot his eyes back down to the periodical.

_Goddamn abusive mother—_His curses were cut short as the receptionist drew back the pane of glass and called his name. He stood from his chair and quickly moved to the green door that separated the waiting room from the hall of psychologist's offices, but stopped his hand a few inches short of the handle upon seeing the complicated lock system with an ominously blinking red light. "Red means stop," He called with a laugh.

"And green," A woman's voice answered as the light turned colors and the lock clicked, "Means go, Mr. Cutler. Please, come in". _I like her_, Joshua thought as he turned the knob and pushed the door open. He stepped into the small hallway and caught a flash of golden hair moving into one of the five rooms—to accommodate him entering the _painfully_ narrow hall, he noticed. "To your immediate right," She instructed, and Joshua stepped through that door as well.

He was met with a woman at least half a foot shorter than he was _in heels_, who held out her hand. "I'm Dr. Natasha White...nice to meet you," She said. Joshua glanced her over and felt under-dressed. Back at the station, everyone wore whatever was comfortable—nobody could see you on the radio, after all—so when he had headed to her office an hour and a half before his shift began, he put on his usual plain shirt and jeans, not to mention his much-beloved hat. Pair that with the facts that he had worn the same pair of brown shoes for two years and had let his flaming red hair dry with the kink from the elastic band in it; and it made for one nasty Joshua Cutler anyway. _At least he had shaved._

But compare that to this gorgeous woman in front of him, and if it weren't for years of building his confidence, he would be crawling out the door with his tail between his legs. Natasha White was clean and crisp, gently business-like...dressed to impress, he supposed. And with a job like hers, it was a necessity. He took her hand with a smile.

"Hey there. Joshua Cutler," The woman smiled softly at him and shut her door.

"Please, sit down. I understand that this is not a visit for therapy, but for...a business opportunity, is it?". She asked him, her forehead wrinkling in confusion.

"Yes. I'm not asking you to leave Dark Stone Psychiatry, just to branch out a little more..." He paused as the wrinkle remained, and sighed. "Okay. Backing up. I'm a disc jockey for 104.1 The Tiger. I run the station from one to seven every evening. On the last hour of my shift, I do an informal advice session with callers...nothing against your job, but sometimes you can take awhile to answer a simple question. I can be...a little harsh, sure; but I'm honest".

"Perhaps that is best," Natasha mused from her leather chair. Looking to her eyes, he saw that the deep blue irises were kept gentle and non-judgmental, but still sharp. He looked away, scanning her PhD on the wall.

"Sometimes," Joshua shrugged. "I've worked for The Tiger since I was twenty-two, and for six years I've had no problems. I mean, we're talking over a thousand sessions here! And I've found that my...cynicism is good for dealing with girls with cheating boyfriends or a guy stuck in middle management. But lately....".

"Something has changed for you".

"...Men from the base outside the city have begun to call me. And...I just don't know what to say to a guy who's telling me that he hears his dying troop in his dreams; that he's scared to start his car because there might be a bomb there. I...I can't turn them away; not when they're so desperate for help that they call a radio program".

Dr. White was quiet for a moment. "I still don't understand. You want to refer these men to my office?".

"No. I did some research on legal matters involved with the idea, and thought that maybe, once or twice a week, you could come on the air with me? You wouldn't have to worry about being sued because by calling into a public broadcast, they wave all confidentiality rights, and the station would pay you for your time. Hell—_I'd _pay you for your time! I just need an hour or two a week when I know I can give these men something like solace. And...I read your dissertation about the negative effects of believing they had a mental stigma had on veterans, and Googled you, Dr. White. And you're good. I want them to get good help".

She was silent. "...Or, even if I could just refer them, or get some pointers or....". Natasha placed her hand on top of his clenched fist—_when had he closed it?—_and he stopped his thoughts.

"I'll do it," The blonde said. "When will you need me to come in?".

Joshua was...flabbergasted, to put it mildly. "Huh...? But...you...are you sure?".

"Our desire is the same," Natasha told him in her soft voice—_that would be perfect for the show, _he thought _kind and non-threatening—_as she drew back her hand. "And to see a stranger so willing to help others is inspiring. My hours here end at five, Mr. Cutler; so I could come in any day".

"Joshua," He corrected. "Please. And...hmm...can I try to weasel you into three days a week?". He smirked, reaching into his pocket. "C'mon. Heads you will, tails you won't?".

The look she gave him was that of a mildly offended school teacher. _A sexy teacher. _"If that will satisfy you, Joshua".

"What do you expect? This is Vegas," Joshua chuckled, controlling the pressure of his flick as the quarter sailed into tight spirals above his head. "And....Heads!". Flashing the face of the coin towards Natasha's face, he kept the same easy smirk as she peered at him with mild curiosity, tucking an errant strand of hair away from her eyes.

"Three days, then. Shall we say...Monday, Wednesday, and Friday?".

It was his turn to give her a strange look. "You'd give up your Friday evening to do this, doctor?".

"I don't have much else to do".

Joshua chose not to comment on that. "Okay, then. Uh, starting next week, I guess? I can have the station fax over some sort of contract tomorrow".

"That would be fine," Natasha nodded as she rolled her chair backwards to the cooler under her desk. She withdrew a sandwich from inside, asked if he minded, and held out half to him—and it was after he refused it and continued to brief her with expected salary, usual complaints, and other bits and pieces that he realized what she was doing.

"Natasha!" He said sharply, forgetting her title in his exasperation, "This is your _lunch break_?!". She swallowed a mouthful of turkey and lettuce before answering him. Joshua stood from his chair. "Eat, eat! God, here you are helping me out on your lunch hour and...I'm going to let you enjoy your lunch before your next patient gets here. Here's my card," He said quickly, placing the white rectangle on the desk next to her. "Call if you have questions...can I just walk out the door?".

Natasha set her food down and rose herself. "I need to let you out...it's totally secure, for out client's safety as well as our own". He let her into the hallway first, and she turned to awkwardly say goodbye in the little space. "Well, I suppose I'll see you Monday?".

Joshua grinned. "And every Monday after. Thank you so much, Dr. White".

"Natasha's fine," She smiled. "We're co-workers, after all".

His grin widened at that, and after a jaunty 'Later!', Joshua sped out of the office before he had a chance to look at the little girl again.

-)(-

"Um, Dr. White?". Natasha turned at the voice and saw the young receptionist holding a red file in her hands.

"Yes, Amelia?".

"Ah, the social worker is here with the...um, abuse victim, ma'am".

"Early?" The blonde girl nodded. "I see...would you like for me to get her doctor for you?".

"Yes. Doctor? Who was your last patient?".

"Hmm? Oh. He's not a patient at all, actually. He's a disc jockey that I'll be working with, starting next week. He works for 104.1. That's alternative rock, isn't it? Do you listen to it at all?"

Amelia's eyes lit up. "I knew I recognized his voice! That was Joshua! He gives such snappy comebacks to callers who try to heckle him...I'm a little jealous, Dr. White!".

Natasha smiled at the teenager. "Is that so? If that's the case, I'm envious of your bravery, Amelia. Not many high school seniors use their work permit to help at such a place".

"Thank you," She flushed. "But it's not scary for me here".

"Because you are brave enough to face the truth. And that can be the most difficult of all things," A deep voice responded. Both women turned to face Dr. Duessel, the child psychologist of the small group. Amelia's flush deepened even more at her idol's praise, and Natasha smiled up at the giant of a man. "And Natasha. What does this new partnership entail for you?".

"Nothing like what you think, Lance," She responded. "I'll be more than happy to tell you and Dr. Knoll about it later; but you have a patient waiting".

The large man agreed to that, and Natasha slipped back into her office to finish her lunch.

-)(-

Taking a breath in, Joshua hit the switch on the side of his headset. "Hey, Las Vegas! It's one o'clock here at The Tiger, and I'm about to bring you a set of some great songs. For those of you who don't know, I'm Joshua; and I'll be here with you until seven. Remember—we have our Bahama getaway contest at three, and the advice section is at six. But something new's coming to 104.1—beginning next week, we'll have the wonderful Dr. White here to help me answer your questions. Feel free to call in! Now, here's something new from Ex Mortem". He clicked the 'Play' option on the computer screen, and had barely turned off his headpiece when the call light flashed.

"You got her, man?!".

"Hey to you too, Gerik. Yes, she agreed to help out. Three days a week, too".

"Did you make her bet on it or something?".

"She would've done it anyway. A little solemn, but Natasha's kind".

"O-ho! First names, huh?".

"Since when were you the inquisitor, man?".

"Since _you _struck a deal with a smoking hot shrink! I saw that picture on Google!".

"You get to work with your _wife_".

"I never said she was prettier that Tethys," The other man laughed. "Hey. I'm glad you got her help, Josh. I know that it was eating you up, all the soldiers calling".

He smiled at his friend's gruff voice. "Yeah. Thanks for setting the appointment up for me". The older man insisted that it was "the missus' doing", but Joshua Cutler knew how efficiently the popular night DJ got things done. "Whatever, Gerik. I've got a playlist to set up here—can I talk to you later?".

"Sure! Oh, check your e-mail, too—your mom sent me a reminder to remind _you _that she forwarded you something about Castle Renais". At the red-head's groan, Gerik cackled. "Oh, she loves you! Deal with it!".

"I love her too, but I don't care about the casinos".

"Just read it, okay? I'll catch you in an hour".

Hanging up the phone, Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose before selecting two more songs to play and (reluctantly) opening up the Internet browser. A new message caught his eye—or rather, the sender's name did. _Natasha White? _He opened the e-mail message, read it, and let out another groan.

_Joshua, _

_You left your wallet on my side table. I will return in to you when I get off of work. _

After a quick glance to make sure his headset was still off, Joshua proceeded to curse every living thing in the city. _Oh, that's a lovely first impression of me!_

**-)(-END-)(-**

_A few notes and an apology before you go!_

_CEOs or not, Innes and Ephraim are going to fight like they're seven. One has to pity Tana. _

_Security in a private office? Yes. Not only is this wise to make sure there's a record of business transactions, the camera was also placed after certain incidents with Lyon took place at Castle Renais. It should be noted that only the door of Eirika's personal suite is visible via security camera, as is custom with every other room in the hotel._

_Yes, that was Myrrh and Saleh. I figured since we see one of them and get the mention of the other in the same chapter Joshua and Natasha are introduced in...well, why not?_

_Dark Stone Psychiatry? Lame attempt to get Grado in there somehow. You've got three guesses as to whom started the group. _

_Ex Mortem is the name of my brother's friend's band. I didn't want to have to deal with comments professing love or hate for a group—so I figured it''d be safest to go with an unknown one._

_And I'm sorry if this was awkward to read. Just trying to get past the situational so I can move on to the good stuff!_

_Coming in "On the Job": Apparently, "some proficiency" to Seth Marshall means "blackbelt" to the rest of us; Joshua has never been so glad to forget his billfold; and Ismaire's e-mail isn't totally forgotten. _


	3. Chapter Two: On the Job

_Here's the second chapter for you all! I apologize; this is following a logical time-line. It seems that a plot has come to me—gasp!—and _Controlling Entropy _will be...flowing. Hope that doesn't bother you too much. _

_Also, Eirika, Seth, Joshua, and Natasha will not all meet for two more_ _chapters. Sorry! _

_Enjoy, darlings!_

**-)(-On the Job-)(-**

The security surveillance system that ran Castle Renais was much more than an "eye in the sky" of the hotel, Seth found. The complex, expertly-coordinated network of computers and cameras that flicked across two hundred screens in the large basement complex; all recording their data and sending it to three private servers—two in a deeper level of the security annex and one, apparently, in a hidden location in _Arizona!_— was something more akin to an _army_ in each patron's _brain_.

With such a system, he expressed to Forde and Kyle, he saw little need for a head of staff. The two men shared a horrified look before the blonde man turned to him in desperation. "No, sir! We _need _you here. The cameras, they're for backup! We have to send out squads to deal with problems, and deal with angry customers, and all kinds of things that we've had to try to figure out to do for months, now, and I really can't take anymore of the job because it's hard—not that you won't be able to handle it! You'll do splendidly, Admiral!".

Kyle, who had been about to strike the back of his friend's head for rambling, stopped his hand in mid-swing. "...Admiral?" He said dubiously, looking over to Seth. "I wasn't aware you had naval experience, sir".

"I don't," He replied, fixing his dark eyes on the other security guard. "Forde? Where are you coming from with that?".

"I thought you had military experience".

"I was an officer with the New York City Police for a while, but...no," Seth shook his head. He noticed Franz—Forde's brother, he had learned—jerk his head to stare at him with even bigger stars in his eyes for his new boss; but pushed it aside as Forde spoke.

"Well! You're such a commanding figure, sir, I thought you needed an imposing nickname. But "Admiral" doesn't seem to be cutting it....Hmm, I wonder....". Seth rubbed the back of his head with a sigh. This had to go along with the napping, he assumed—Forde seemed to be the "free spirit" of his new guards. That aside, he seemed more than able to do his job; as did all of the men he had met so far. To his left, Kyle scowled at the other man and muttered something about his idiocy before resuming his explanation of the computer system.

It seemed that the three hundred men that were now under him had—basically—two jobs. He had half of his total staff at the hotel at all times. One hundred of them would man two monitors each while the other fifty would walk about the hotel and be the first response to any situations. Everyone there, Kyle said, was capable of shifting between the tasks at a moment's notice. Seth grasped the basic concepts of it all quickly, and was in the middle of synchronizing his new ear-piece when Franz hesitantly called him over from his seat at Station 61.

"Um, Mr. Marshall, sir?".

_And he thought that _"Officer" _made him feel old! _"Seth is fine, Franz. What is it?", He asked the young man, bending over so he could see the screens in front of the other's chair. Franz pointed to a poker table with a rather large collection of chips in the middle.

"I think that something is going wrong here, M—Seth. This man—in the green polo—has been putting way too much in, and....". Frowning, Seth looked at the game more closely. The gentlemen in question did indeed have a large sum of money invested—what looked to be ten thousand dollars, he saw—and he also didn't look like the sort of person who had ten thousand dollars to throw away in a card game. Seth straightened and waved Kyle and Forde over.

"Do we have a 'kind shark' policy here?". They both nodded, Franz added in that the dealer had been enforcing it, and Seth's frown deepened. "Then this dealer should be signaling soon," He said, returning his gaze to the screen.

Not thirty seconds later, while speaking to Mr. Polo, the dealer tugged her handkerchief out of her back pocket and left it hanging down. "That's it," Forde said, quickly sliding his walkie-talkie back onto his belt. "Let's go see you in action, Gunny".

"...That one's not working too well, brother," Franz softly muttered. Forde heaved a sigh and mussed his sibling's hair.

"You keep watching him, kiddo. We'll be back soon". The three men—two in uniforms, their leader in his suit—then left Security. The layout of the hotel had been committed to Seth's memory last week, and with the mental blueprint it wasn't hard to navigate up the stairwell and through the back hallways of Castle Renais. Various housekeepers and the odd guest stared at the trio as they hurried to the second casino room and Seth felt slightly guilty that he couldn't at least spare a nod to them; but he knew that what was possibly going on at that poker table was very dangerous.

The basic rule of any casino was to make money. However, woven correspondingly into casino intricacies was the footnote "make more money by getting return customers". As such, most reputable casinos had a "kind shark" policy in place—a certain monetary limit, determined by the apparent financial status of the gambler in question, that the dealer would try not to push them past. For example, if there's a man placing twenty-dollar bets every time he gets a new hand, the dealer might let him lose five-hundred dollars before suggesting he bet a little lower, or even encouraging him to quit the game. This would both create a sense of camaraderie with the nice dealer who didn't want the evil casino to suck him dry _and_ ensure that the man's temper wouldn't flare and cause problems within the establishment. From the looks of the tape, Seth assumed that the dealer had been trying to convince the man to lower his bets for some time and had told him that he should quit playing and cash in his chips—but the man refused to do so, as people occasionally would. Whenever _that _happened, the dealer knew to send a casino-specific signal to security to there could be officers in the room when the player had a big loss. The presence of armed people in a position of authority, Seth had always found, tended to quell—or at least make people mask—their anger.

"It's not too much farther, Colonel," Forde said. "Eh, forget that one, too. The room's just above us, here—see that staircase to your right, coming up by the vending machine? Take it, and we'll be exiting right beside the—GAH!".

A deafening **BOOM!** sounded from above their heads, and Seth had taken off up the stairs before Franz had a chance to shout into their communicators. "Code Black Knight! Squads Six and Nine, report to Area F!". Upon flinging the door open, Seth felt something heavy settle in his chest. Franz's quick explanation of the code to him wasn't needed.

He could _see _that a Code Black Knight stood for excessive violence.

-)(-

Eirika smiled kindly at her head of housekeeping. "Anabelle, that's a wonderful idea. I don't see why I couldn't allow your staff to wear some sort of holiday paraphernalia beginning next month...just make sure it's nothing religious, okay?". The middle aged woman smiled back at her employer with a sharp little nod.

"Oh, yes, ma'am! We don't want a lawsuit! Thank you very much, Eirika". With a light reply back, the heiress continued down the hallway, pausing hesitantly before the door to the stairs that would lead her to the Security Room.

_I shouldn't be checking up on him, _She scolded herself; hand frozen on the metal handle. _He got this job because he could handle it, he doesn't need me breathing down his neck while he's trying to work! ..._I _don't need to be breathing down his neck! Seth is very nice...but I need to treat him like any other employee. _But that, another part of her rationalized, would be hard to do. Being head of her security staff, she and Seth were forced by the nature of their jobs to interact on a closer level than any other relationship she had with her employees—he was, after all, the only member of her staff that lived in the hotel with her. He was required to. And wasn't that surveillance system notoriously difficult to learn, anyway? Eirika sighed, turning the doorknob. _I should check in...just to see how my second-in-command is doing,_ she thought. The woman ignored the tiny voice that hissed _Lyon, Lyon, it's this all over again...!_

As the door opened, a loud roll of noise coursed through the Castle Renais, and Eirika stepped back from the door in shock. _Thunder? But...no, that's not.... _She frowned, then gasped as she heard rushed footsteps coming up the stairs. Franz Charger jerked to a halt to avoid colliding with his boss. "Oh! Miss Eirika!".

"What's happening?", Eirika asked her youngest guard as she quickly took off down the hall, Franz slowing his usual pace slightly to remain alongside her.

"Black Knight," He answered. "Mr. Marshall and my brother are there with Kyle...it looks bad". Eirika frowned at him, turning down a hallway.

"But what was that noise?" She said. "Just now, like thunder". Franz paused before answering her, and she inwardly winced. Whatever it was, it was a HR _disaster_....

-)(-

Despite the bad situation, Seth found the lump in his torso softening. Maybe it had something to do with years of seeing riots, muggings, murder scenes, narcotic busts, _and not to mention that __embarrassing incident where he had stumbled in on Senator Akins' son and a prostitute_; but suddenly his usual calm washed over him. And the red-faced, screaming man in front of the flipped card table, along with the horrified dealer and fifty or so other patrons in the room, didn't seem so bad.

Kyle and Forde had stopped behind him, both impatient to do something and unsure of what, exactly, _to _do. Taking a deep breath in, Seth held out a hand to keep them in their places and strode forward as non-threateningly as possible towards the still yelling man. "THIS IS BULLSHIT! GOD DAMN BULLSHIT! WHAT SORT OF SHIT ARE YOU RUNNING HERE?!". The dealer trembled from her sprawled place on the floor, trying to scoot backwards, but her movements were shaky and uncertain. A quick scan of the woman revealed that her right ankle was steadily becoming darker and swollen, and the way that side of her body moved made it clear that the table had hit the woman as it was hoisted into the air.

"Sir, I see that there's a problem here," Seth injected quickly, sliding in between the angry man and the overturned table to prevent him from reaching anybody else—dealer included—in the room. "Please, lower your voice, and we can discuss this in a more private setting". That was a lie, he knew. As soon as the man was somewhat tranquil; he would be arrested by _his_ men before he was turned over to the police for destruction of property and aggravated assault. Seth resisted the urge to shift his leg off of the poker chips poking awkwardly into his foot and locked eyes with the angry gambler, making sure his stance was confident and powerful.

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TO TELL ME TO LOWER MY VOICE!" He bellowed, "THIS DAMN PLACE WIPED ME CLEAN!".

Seth kept his face impassive. "I'm the head of security here, sir. The dealer told you to stop playing several hands ago, and the Castle Renais cannot be held responsible for your negligence of her warnings. I'll ask you again to lower your voice and come with me," He said in a lower tone, narrowing his eyes slightly. Crisis control had to be swift, he knew—and if it wasn't, it normally escalated to violence.

A quiet gasp from behind him told him—somehow—that Eirika Svarog was there with Forde and Kyle, and Seth bit back the order for her to leave. It was dangerous for the heiress there, he knew; more dangerous for her to be there than it was for any other person in the entirety of Castle Renais. From speaking to her brother, he found that Eirika liked to interact with her guests...and the odds were that the man would recognize her. She was, after all, a beautiful woman with an unusual hair color. He _had_ to keep the man focused on him, or the woman would become his next target. "Sir. Come with me," Seth ordered, dropping any remaining pretenses of gentility towards the angry patron.

"THE HELL I WILL, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Was his reply as he snarled viciously and lunged towards Seth. The guard took a deep breath in and steeled himself for the man's attack.

-)(-

She couldn't believe what was happening. Seconds before, her new head of security had been standing like some sort of knight amidst the chaos of scared people and wildly strewn cards and plastic discs, bravely facing off a dangerous lunatic and now.... Now, Seth was still just _standing _there with this determined look on his face as same lunatic charged at him with some horrible battle cry.

_Oh God, no! _Eirika cringed, her mind unwillingly flashing to Seth's resume. "_Some proficiency __in hand-to-hand combat," _it read, and the woman had taken that to mean he took boxing for a year or something. Cops and bodyguards usually came with guns, but her security officers didn't—they had M18 TASERS for emergencies, and (of course!) Seth hadn't received most of his tools yet. So, here he was, about to get pummeled by some crazy gambler with _some proficiency _in fighting; and Eirika felt the blood rush away from her face and pound in her temples as she choked out an order to _do something _to Forde and Kyle and Franz. Then, as the three men pulled their TASERS from their sides, the man struck out at Seth Marshall.

He caught the punch.

Tightening his grip on the man's clenched fist, Seth pulled back with his arm to force his assailant forward, quickly jerking his left arm under the man's same limb and using the moment of displaced balance to spin him around. Releasing his hand, he twisted his other arm around the stunned attacker's neck and shifted his left arm upwards so he could grasp his bicep with his right hand, placing the palm of his left flat against the man's head. "_Don't move,_" Seth commanded in a low rumble, and the man, instantly fearful and meek, nodded. "Kyle".

The green-haired man rushed forward, cuffing one of the man's wrists before Seth released him from his choke hold. As soon as the violent poker-player was out of the room,the silence was broken with wild applause and cheering from the others inside. Seth didn't seem to care for it, Eirika noticed, as he was kneeling beside the injured card dealer and checking her ankle. He was the same gentle man from that morning, not the fierce warrior from a moment ago, and the Charger brothers approached their boss with wide smiles.

"Well done, General!" Forde shouted. "Hey...that's it! Remember that, Franz!".

Dark eyes looked to the younger brother. "Franz, this woman is hurt. Take her to where she needs to go, please".

"Y-yes sir, General Seth!" He stammered, grabbing his walkie-talkie. "I need a wheelchair in Area F, ASAP!". After seeing the pair help the woman to her feet, Forde supporting the weight on her right side, the auburn-haired man stood back upright and turned to his hovering employer.

"Miss Eirika," He said.

Eirika let out her breath. "I'm glad you're alright, Seth...I thought that you only had _some _proficiency in fighting?" She asked pointedly, locking her teal eyes onto his. He smiled softly at her remark.

"It isn't becoming to brag," Was his reply as he kept an eye on the other two security squads ushering the customers back to their own games. Eirika sighed at that and finally gave him a smile of her own.

"It looks you have some work to do here," She said, gesturing to the general mayhem in the room. "As do I. But...very well done," Eirika complimented him, resting her hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you, ma'am".

"Just keep it up, _General_," She laughed with a wicked grin, removing her hand. "The men are looking up to you already. I think that Ephraim was right in hiring you".

"Of course..._Princess_," He said. She looked back into warm eyes for a moment, stared slack-jawed as he bowed. Seth Marshall moved past her to give directions to the newly-arriving guards. "Well, is that not your position in the Castle Renais?", He murmured to her with a slightly devious smile of his own. Eirika blushed, choked past a few sounds, then finally settled with telling him to get to work.

**-)(-On the Job-)(-**

Gerik had laughed—loudly—when he picked up the phone at a quarter 'till six. "Hey scatterbrain, your cash is back!".

"Go to Hell," Joshua muttered to him, "Hold on". Silencing the telephone, he turned his headset on. "And that was The Stillborn's latest. Stay tuned, because after these commercials, it's time for my advice hour on this lovely Thursday evening". Clicking the ten-minute commercial roll that he was forced to play twice during his six-hour shift, he flipped the headset off again and returned to the phone. "Okay. So my wallet's here?".

"Yeah. And your little lady is, too".

Joshua rolled his eyes. "She doesn't belong to me, Gerik. Ah...bring her up here, I guess. And if you have a contract for her, could you get that out for her to sign?".

"Sure thing!" He replied. "Doc? Just go to floor five and head into the broadcasting room there—it's the first door you see. Don't mind the flashing red light". Joshua could hear the chime of the elevator before Gerik spoke to him again. "I'm faxing it up to you now, man".

"Thanks," He replied. "...And _what_ are you doing at the station so early?".

"I actually came to drop off the contract to you, since I knew she was coming to return your wallet," Gerik said (laughing again, of course). "I got here probably two minutes before she did". Joshua sighed and responded with a dry remark about it being his lucky day. "Yeah, lucky that I'm married, because otherwise I'd be putting the _moves _on her! Women are powerless to resist my charms!".

"Your damn bedroom voice is more like it, ass," Joshua teased back. "You and your wife....Why do you think they have the sex-charged duo running things from seven 'till eleven?". Gerik laughed again, and Joshua had begun to chuckle along when there was a knock at the door. "Oh. Guess Natasha's up here...talk to you later". Hanging up the phone, Joshua stood from his swivel chair with a groan and moved to the door. It opened to reveal Dr. White with a familiar brown leather wallet in her hand, her own small purse in the other. "Hello again," He smiled. "Sorry you had to come all the way here because I'm forgetful...."

The woman smiled back at him and held out his wallet, stepping into the room. "No, it wasn't a problem at all. I actually figured that I could go ahead and look at that contract you mentioned?". Joshua nodded and turned back to his station, picking up the still warm paper. When he turned back around, he saw that the woman was mouthing something to herself. Before he had a chance to ask about it, she sighed a number. "Twenty...?".

"Twenty...twenty what?". Natasha looked to him, slightly startled, before flushing.

"Oh! I, um, was just counting your call lights...you can take twenty at a time up here? Is there no screening process for those who call in?".

_Huh. Guess I never really had to think about how many people could ring me. _"No, there is. They go through three receptionists before they can get up here...most of the time, they don't mind it. Sometimes, if it's _really_ slow, they'll go straight to me, but that's once in a blue moon". The psychiatrist nodded, then looked to her contract. "Oh. Right. Um, it's the basics...an outline of your obligation, a proposed start date, salary....." Joshua moved to slide a chair over to her, and after she sat, he leaned over her with the paper, a finger pointing out specifics. "You'll get a hundred bucks each night you're in here...so, that's about fourteen thousand a year. The only limitation on possible termination of the contract on your end is that you give us the usual two weeks notice. Well, rather, you tell me. I'm your channel here—I'll pay you, set you up with access cards, everything like that".

Natasha pulled a pen from her bag after scanning the rest of the document. Gently taking the paper from Joshua, she signed it in all three places, dated the item, and returned it with another of her little smiles. "Looks like we're in business".

He grinned, prepared to reply, when his cellphone rang. "What the...Gerik? Sorry," He said to the woman, flipping the device open. "Yeah? ...What? How do you..._Marissa _says that? Oh, God...she _just _signed the damn thing five seconds ago...can we legally go through with—no, you know what? It doesn't matter. Tell him to hold on for three minutes," He sharply said, snapping his phone shut.

"There is a soldier," Natasha softly confirmed—her voice was too sure for it to be a question. "I can begin whenever you'd like".

Joshua felt a wave of relief and clarity at the woman's reaction. "_Thank you. _Crash course in communicating on the air—don't speak until I signal you," He told her, slipping a headset over the golden hair.

"I'm not sure that's exactly how it works...." She murmured back, fiddling with the microphone beside her mouth. "But alright". He sat down, reached over, and took her tiny hand into his own. It was squeezed quickly, once, before he let go.

"For luck," He whispered. _To calm me down._ As the commercial came to an end, he cut the announcement for the drive-through wedding chapel off as he brought The Tiger back on air. "We're back here at 104.1 The Tiger. This is Joshua, and as a very special treat, we have the lovely Dr. Natasha White joining us a few days early. How are you, doctor?".

"I'm doing well, thank you," Natasha returned, smiling at him. "And you are well also?".

"Yeah. Well, it looks like we have a caller on the line...you might have to help me out with this one, Doc,".

"It would be an honor". She said. "Hello, I'm Dr. White...and who might I be speaking to?".

There was a sharp, startled inhale before the man spoke. "Staff Sergeant Gilliam Knightly of the United States Army, ma'am".

_Dear Lord, is this guy jumpy military or what?! _Joshua thought, shaking his head to bring his mind back to the real matter at hand. "Hey, Staff Sergeant. What can we help you with tonight?".

The harsh, clipped voice cracked over the phone. "I let my men die, sir. I lead them into a wired building...the only reason I made it back from that hellhole was because their bodies...." There was a shaky gasp, "...They shielded my own from the shrapnel. And....". Joshua let the pause linger for a few seconds, had opened his mouth to respond, but was stopped by a light touch. Natasha shook her head at him, and spoke herself.

"You feel guilty, Staff Sergeant Knightly? Responsible?" She gently asked, and something about her voice shocked the disc jockey. _She sounds like she's asking him if his head or his stomach hurts...not if he's grappling with Demon A or Demon B. It's...soothing. Natural. Perfect. Hell, _I _want to confess! _The voice on the other end of the line remained silent for a moment more.

"I want to die, ma'am".

Joshua bit his tongue and looked worriedly towards the woman next to him, bright eyes flickering with uncertainty and panic. _Oh, fuck. Oh, no, no, no, no...._Suicide was the last thing he was ready to mess with, and he knew that even therapists had a hard time dealing with it. Dr. White, however, kept her face entirely composed and continued to talk to the man. "For how long?".

"...Since it happened four months ago, ma'am".

"And have you told anybody else?".

"No, ma'am".

"I'm glad you're telling me," Natasha said kindly. "Thank you. Staff Sergeant...I can tell you three things right now. Are you willing to completely hear what I have to say to you?".

"Yes, ma'am".

"Okay. Firstly, there will come no good in ending your life. As cliché as it sounds, you're looking at a permanent solution for a temporary problem. On that note, my second thing to tell you is that you're not broken because of this—you can still heal, because you have the fortitude to call in for help. Thirdly...you should see a therapist for a more detailed assessment and treatment. Is there one on base you can go to?".

"I tried, ma'am. He wasn't much help...there are others, with PTSD and everything....".

Natasha sighed. "Alright. Would you consider coming in to _my _office, then?".

"...Yes, ma'am". The Staff Sergeant said, and his voice was much less guarded now. "I could...I would be willing to". Her smile was gentle and radiant, and Joshua found himself smiling as well before he held up his hand to her and spoke.

"That's great, Staff Sergeant Knightly. If you'd hang on for a second, we can get you all of the information you need," The man agreed to wait, and Joshua disconnected his call from the air. "Thank you for that, Natasha...got any questions for us? Call 555-1041 now. We'll be back after some music," He clicked the "random" button on the music player and took them both off the air before reconnecting Natasha with Gilliam Knightly. The woman arranged an appointment with the man for the following Tuesday, and after she hung up the phone, he set one more song to play.

"I don't know how you did it...." He said, resting his head in his hands. "Dear God, I nearly died just listening to him say that....". The woman smiled at him and laced her fingers in her lap.

"He wasn't an immediate suicide threat if he was calling in to us, Joshua. For your future reference, when speaking with somebody who is suicidal, don't try to tell them about the good in their life".

Joshua lifted his eyes to her with a slow nod. "Right...you didn't do that. I was waiting for 'you have so much to live for' or something".

"That is one of the worst things you can do, actually. You see, there's something called state-dependent thinking....Take, for instance, a fight with a girlfriend. She does one thing to make you mad, and while you argue you remember everything she's ever done that angered you. It is much the same with feelings of depression. If you try to convince someone that a single aspect of their life isn't so bad; it will only cause them to reflect on other aspects that make them depressed. Those with depression actually see the world differently than you and I do, Joshua".

"So...don't try to convince a depressed person they're okay, because you make it worse?".

"...Basically," Natasha smiled. "Oh. I think you're about to be on". Startled, he looked to the song's time display—fifteen seconds?!—and quickly brought himself back on-air.

He managed to finish his shift with no more problems; as well as no further need for Natasha White's assistance in dealing with people's questions. After quickly advising a girl to get screened for STDs, Joshua cut to the ten-minute reel of commercials again so Gerik and Tethys could get settled into their positions. He was in the process of ushering Natasha out when a woman with red hair much like his own rushed out of the elevator doors and wrapped her into a perfumed hug.

"Oh, my dear, you were _splendid_!", Tethys gushed, holding Natasha back at arm's length, her painted lips curved into a warm smile. "This has to be one of the best things to happen to this station! And you're _gorgeous_, too!".

Natasha, obviously not used to such attention (Joshua himself still wasn't, and he'd worked with her for years!), blushed at the praise and sheepishly responded. "Oh, um, thank you....Uh...who are you?", She asked, looking at the stranger who had so quickly embraced her. The woman's mouth made a small "o" of surprise, and she drew back her hands, the many bracelets she wore _clink_ing with her movement.

"I'm so sorry! I'm Tethys, I work the shift right after Joshua with my husband—Gerik! Gerik, get over here and come meet her!".

"I already have," He said, sauntering over from the still-open elevator. "Nice work, Doc". Gerik grinned over at her, then turned to Joshua. "Hey, nice way to pick 'em, man!". The red-haired man, in turn, rolled his eyes.

"I hope you're referring to Natasha and not the man who called in," His wife muttered with a suddenly harsh tone. Gerik turned to her with an eyebrow raised, frowning.

"Tethys! I am appalled that you would even _think_ I meant that!". The woman snorted something back at him, and without a goodbye, the pair went into the broadcasting room. Natasha watched them go with a look of concentration, and after the door had been shut, she put her deep blue eyes on Joshua.

"...I am...not entirely sure if he was being serious with Tethys," She said. He shook his head with a laugh, waving his arm to get her moving towards the elevator again.

Pushing the button to get the doors to open again, he peered over his shoulder to her. "He meant nothing bad by what he said, if that's what you're getting at. Gerik's a good man—but, yeah. It's hard to tell when he's pulling your leg or not...I guess it is even for a shrink". Joshua Cutler paused and hastily backpedaled. "Uh...I mean...sorry," He sheepishly added. "Guess that's an offensive term....".

Natasha shook her head. "It...well, not really. A 'comes with the territory' sort of thing; like a lawyer being called a slime-ball".

"...That's the worst you've heard them called?" Joshua inquired, stepping into the elevator. "My God, I've heard people say meaner things that slime-ball about their own mother, much less a lawyer!". The petite woman sniffed at that.

"Nothing wrong with some propriety," She parried. "Mind you, people come to me to tell me about what's bothering them—I think that I've heard some of the worst names people can be called".

"Nah...sorry, Natasha, but _that_ little perk goes to a referee".

She giggled lightly. "That's true....Oh. Ground floor...I assume you have some things to wrap up?". The man nodded.

"Yeah...putting you on so early might take a bit of work to smooth out with the boss; and I have a bit of correspondence to finish. I can walk you to your car....".

"No, that's alright. I live close to Dark Stone, so I walk to work. I actually took a cab here...I guess there's really no car for you to walk me to," She said. Joshua chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before stepping out of the elevator.

"Still....Hey, Marissa," A lavender-haired woman looked up from her typing with an aloof expression. "Could you call a cab to come get Dr. White, please?". She nodded and punched something into the phone, and at Natasha's perplexed expression, he was left to explain. "Sorry if you don't like things like this, but...well, my mom was attacked leaving here about a year ago, and I'm kind of iffy about women leaving unattended".

"Oh! I'm so sorry, was she alright?".

He grinned. "Wrong person to be worrying about. She broke the guy's arm in three places and fractured his spine". Her eyes widened. "Ah, she's got a black-belt in Akido, so she flipped him over properly".

"Well...I'm glad she was unharmed. And I don't really mind it," She said.

Joshua smiled. "Good. Uh...you'll be okay waiting out here?".

"Yes. Thank you. Am I to be expected here tomorrow evening?".

"Well, not officially. But, if you'd like, you're always welcome to come".

"Tomorrow, then. Uh, goodnight, Joshua". She brushed a loose golden lock from her shoulder with a small, gentle smile; and even though most of his smiles looked more akin to smirks, he felt his lingering grin somehow turn softer in return.

"'Night". He turned back around and went up to the fifth floor again, waving in the window to Gerik and Tethys on his way to the employee break room. Joshua set the public laptop to boot while he rummaged about for the needed items to make a cup of coffee. He silently thanked the powers that be for the instant hot water dispenser, and let the powdered coffee dissolve into the Styrofoam cup while he—belatedly—logged into his e-mail. _Put it off long enough, _He grimaced, clicking the message from his mother open.

Still attempting to delay reading her words, he stirred a packet of artificial sugar into his steaming drink and downed half of the cup, wincing at the burning sensation it left on his tongue. "Ugh," Joshua grimaced before finally looking at the words on the screen.

_The Castle Renais has finally gotten a new H.o.S. Dear one, I know how much you dislike my business; but for the sake of being polite, could you at least stop by the Christmas party where he'll be formally introduced to all of the hotel owners? It's going to be in mid-December, and black-tie...._

_Please, Joshua. Go, gamble a little, bring a nice girl. _

_We'll discuss this further at dinner tomorrow. _

Maybe it was because he knew he couldn't refuse his mother, part of him said, that when he read about bringing a guest, Natasha White instantly flew to his mind. _We'll see. _

**-)(-END-)(-**

_Again, a few notes to leave you off with...._

_I know _nothing_ about casino workings, but a rule like the "kind shark" makes sense to me. _

_I _do _know about psychology—and I assure you, the advice Natasha gives to Joshua is valid. It's basically a summary of the last two weeks of Psych 2301. _

_And, please, don't hate on the band name. That one, and the rest that follow, are the tamer ones suggested by Mr. George Carlin. I love that man. _

_Coming in "Deck the Halls": Decorating a hotel is no laughing matter, Mommy has suggestions for the station's Christmas tree, and the looming party is brought up. _


End file.
